Letting Go

It has finally dawned on me. I have a hard time letting go. No, not of my children – I knew the day my first one was born that he, and the others to follow, were only with me temporarily. (And another milestone occurs tomorrow, when my 2nd daughter marries. 3 down, 3 to go). No, this letting go is of the extraneous, the unnecessary. And I’m talking about art. You know, that part of the piece that isn’t necessary but you really love it, or think you should love it, or think it’s important because well, it’s part of something you created.

For me, it goes back to kindergarten. Miss Nutell. Maybe she was a Mrs. but that irrevelent. It was in the days leading up to Christmas. The assignment was to paint a gingerbread boy. We were given brown construction paper and the quintessential tempra paints. I painted an outline of a gingerbread boy. Maybe it was traced with a red paint soaked brush, I don’t remember. White paint indicated where the eyes and mouth was, along with a few decorative touches. I was very proud of it. it was a perfect picture.

And then she cut it out. I was crushed. Maybe she had said we were going to be making ornaments, maybe not. But I still would not have understood that it would involve destroying my perfect picture. A hole was punched in the top, a ribbon threaded and knotted for hanging on my tree. It was wonderful. But I was still pissed that she had cut my perfect drawing. I was holding on when I should have been letting go.

Each year it was my job priviledge to hang that ornament on the family tree in a place of honor – front and center. I did so for 12 years until I moved out and then continued the tradition on a Christmas tree of my own. I don’t remember where I put it for safekeeping, that gingerbread boy would now be the ripe old age of 52 – ancient in construction paper years. But I do know it’s here somewhere. It’s tradition, an heirloom.

Would it be this most special ornament if it had remained a picture on a piece of paper? Probably not. Miss Nutell knew the importance of getting rid of the extraneous to make meaning. She knew how to find the essence of the work and had not a qualm about disposing of the extra. Easy for her to do, of  course, because it wasn’t her art. She was not emotionally attached to it. Plus, she had vision. She could see the end result.

If you have trouble letting go, if you are holding on to things that don’t work, maybe you need to seek the advice of someone who is not invested in the work. Maybe you need to ask youself, what is the purpose of this piece? Does that part help me convey my purpose, my message? Or maybe, just maybe….you need to have trust. yes, trust. Trust that by losing a part you will complete the whole.

Perfection is not when there is no more to add, but no more to take away.
Antoine de Saint-Exupery

Have a wonderful weekend! And pray or wish the rain away from Earleville, MD tomorrow for the wedding.